


You will always be my...

by chenziee



Series: One Angel [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 15:43:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3901846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chenziee/pseuds/chenziee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eren fell into depression when he realized he's going to drop out of college. And Levi still has no idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You will always be my...

**Author's Note:**

> God, I'm gonna regret posting this so much in the morning... (-_-;;)
> 
> The title is from the song Angel by Yoon Mi-rae. Because Levi is Eren's Angel. It's not really relevant to the fic, though... I just couldn't come up with anything and was tempted to leave the working title as it was (it was very creatively named "y") but then this song came up on my playlist and I was like, "whatever, let's go with this..."
> 
> If you haven't figured it out yet, this isn't exactly as light as most of my other fics are. If you get triggered easily, reading further probably isn't much of a good idea... (Although, what do I know; maybe it's shitty and won't affect anyone but you can never be careful enough, right?)

**Three months before**

“Eren... What the hell is this?”

I looked up from the book I was reading to shoot a puzzled look in Levi’s direction.

He was sitting at the opposite side of the table in our favourite, secluded corner at our favourite café, two laptops open in front of him – one his and one mine – using my old notes to help him with studying, seeing as I took the same course two years ago, in our first year, while Levi is taking it now, in his third year.

He was staring intently at the screen of my laptop, eyebrows furrowed more than usual. He looked... a little scared and a sense of dread ran through me. “What?”

“ _This,”_ he hissed as he lifted the computer and turned it around so I could see the open document. My eyes quickly scanned over it and I could feel blood leaving my face. I could only hope my naturally dark-ish skin hid that fact. Without changing my facial expression I looked up, meeting his eyes. “Weren’t you looking at the notes?”

Levi scoffed. “You can’t expect anyone _not_ to open a document named ‘x’ in a folder named ‘stuff’. Now explain and it better be good.”

I resisted the urge to gulp nervously at the look in his narrowed eyes. Instead I forced a chuckle I knew sounded natural to anyone and everyone after months of practice. “I really hoped you wouldn’t notice that folder. It’s full of unfinished drabbles, incomplete ideas, just... _stuff._ For my writing, you know. It’s the most embarrassing folder in the whole computer.”

Levi’s expression visibly relaxed at that. I smiled, relieved myself. “What, did you think it was about me?”

He gave me a dirty look. “Well, you had me fucking scared for a second.”

“I’m sorry, then. If that’s the case, I’m going to name my embarrassing stuff some embarrassing names that make it clear just what it is, instead of vague one letter ones.” I smirked as he rolled his eyes.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to; it just surprised me, is all.”

“Sorry,” I said as I leaned over to kiss him in further apology.

He returned the kiss before pulling away with a frown. “Enough. Stop distracting me or I’m going to fail this class.”

I stared at him for a second with raised eyebrows. “You mean after _I_ passed it? Yeah, right. And anyway, it wasn’t me who told you to go roaming around in my things.”

He just rolled his eyes before actually starting working.

Half an hour later, I was still on the same page – hell, the same _sentence_ – in my book, my heart still beating rapidly and mind still running in circles.

* * *

**Two months before**

I reluctantly turned on my phone to read all the messages that I heard coming the day before, before it managed to irritate me enough to force myself to actually go through the effort of raising my hand to pick the phone up and shut it off.

I cringed at the sheer number and decided to just call Levi in favour of replying to it all. He picked up at the first ring.

“Eren? Are you okay? Why didn’t you answer yesterday?” He sounded a mix of worried and angry. It was understandable but it still annoyed the shit out of me. Why the hell did he feel the need to _worry_ about me?

I didn’t let my irritation show in my voice when I replied apologetically, “I’m really sorry, Levi. My phone died and I think forgot my charger at home when I went back. I had to go buy a new one today, first thing in the morning.” Not like he could tell I was lying over the phone.

He sighed in resigned frustration. “Really, you’re such a fucking idiot...” I couldn’t help but agree with him silently.

“I’m really sorry; I’ll make it up to you.”

“I sure hope so, you little shit. It will cost you,” he growled and the teasing under-tone made me smile a little.

* * *

**One month before**

We were at Levi and Hanji’s apartment. Hanji was out partying like almost every Friday, so Levi invited me for a sleepover.

Currently we were on the couch, Levi on top of me. We were heavily making out, the running movie and open wine long forgotten.

I had my hands tangled in his hair and he had his running over my stomach under my shirt while we were kissing passionately. I could feel his erection through the layers of clothing and I was pretty sure he could feel mine.

At that moment I wanted nothing more than get us both naked and just _do it._ I was momentarily happy Levi apparently thought along the same lines as I did as I felt him pushing my shirt upwards, nudging my arms to cooperate so he could take it off.

...Take my shirt... off.

Suddenly I was back to reality, my eyes snapping open, going completely still.

That made Levi stop, too. He pulled away just enough to look at me, confusion apparent in his eyes. “What is it?”

I was silent for a second, making rapid calculations in my head. In the end I just looked away shyly mumbling something along the lines of this being my first time and being nervous. It wasn’t really a lie. It _would_ be my first time and I _was_ nervous.

He rolled his eyes before leaning his forehead against mine. “I know that, brat. Why do you think I waited all this time before going this far? But if you’re not ready, we can wait longer. It’s not like I’m in this for sex, you know.” He did sound a little frustrated at the thought of waiting even longer, but still sincere.

I almost started to cry. I so didn’t deserve this man.

I shook my head as I pulled the shirt over my head, quickly throwing my arms around his neck to pull him for a kiss that I hoped conveyed how much I appreciated him. With our lips still connected I whispered, “That I’m nervous doesn’t mean I don’t want this because, frankly, I want this as much as you do.” Probably not for the same reasons since I wanted it mostly because _he_ wanted it. It was not like my sex-drive was especially active or anything close to it, especially in the past months. But I left that part out.

He smiled at me before proceeding to take our relationship to another level. In the end, we didn’t go all the way that night, but we did, one week later. And a few times after that. Levi never questioned why I always insisted on doing it with as little light as possible, or why I never let my naked left arm too close to his equally naked skin.

* * *

**Three weeks before**

I was not really sure how long I’d been sitting on the floor of our bathroom, but I knew it was somewhere between 2 AM, when I stumbled in there, and 6 AM, when Mikasa’s alarm went off.

But honestly, I really didn’t care what time it was. I didn’t even really care if Mikasa caught me there, sitting on the floor, hugging my knees, unable to shed the tears that I grew so used to feeling gathering behind my eyelids, staring at the fucking bottle and the pills scattered all over the floor that I couldn’t make myself swallow. Again.

I just continued sitting there like an idiot, absentmindedly running my trusty needle up and down my arm, making thin, shallow scratches, leaving the skin all red and tender. The razor blade I used to make some new cuts on the underside of the same arm lay within an arm’s reach. I could feel the blood slowly trickling down and away from my arm onto my legs and I didn’t give a fuck as long as it stopped by the time I forced myself to gather my shit and get up. Getting blood off fabric is close to impossible and I didn’t want to have to deal with it.

As I counted the scattered pills over and over while making a bizarre artwork out of my arm, my mind, apparently determined to see just how awful it could make me feel, kept screaming at me the same things as it always did.

No; that isn’t right. My mind never screams.

It sneers. It makes fun of me. Questions every positive thought I have. It casually reminds me of everything I ever fucked up, everything I ever failed at. Tells me everything I think I have is a lie. It calmly, coldly explains to me exactly why I should punish myself.

Mikasa is with me only because she feels she has to because she’s my sister.

Levi dates me only because he doesn’t really know me as I never let myself show him how I really am. Because I always act all happy around him. Well, not act. He _makes_ me happy. He’s the only thing that makes me happy and that’s a feeling I don’t deserve. As soon as he sees that, he’ll leave.

The people I call friends for the lack of better word only talk to me either because I’m Mikasa’s brother or because I’m Levi’s boyfriend. Why the hell would anyone want be friends with me anyway? I’m just a big ball of angry. Why would anyone like me when even I don’t like myself one bit?

My parents are surely just so fucking disappointed in me after I dropped out of college, they just don’t want to say it outright. But I can feel it. They keep thinking where they went wrong with me, raising such a disappointment of a son. But it’s not their fault. It’s my fault. Only mine.

It’s my own fault I dropped out. My own fault I don’t have any talent besides screwing things up. Even though they told me they’re fine with it, I know they’re disappointed I’m gay on top of everything. And that’s my fault, too.

That I’m feeling guilty about being gay just makes me unworthy of Levi.

I’m worthless. Waste of space, oxygen and my parents’ money. Everyone would be better off if I just didn’t exist.

If I could just fucking pick up those fucking pills and just _swallow_ them.

Why couldn’t I do it?

I knew it’s the best thing I could do.

The only _right_ thing I could do.

So why?

Because I’m weak, that’s why. So fucking weak.

I felt a new wave of tears just waiting to run down my cheeks but I forced them to stay where they were, as I always did. Instead I dropped the needle after one last, hard scratch, and picked up the razor blade again.

* * *

**Now**

“Eren, could you show me your wrists?”

My head turns so fast I think I felt something crack. Levi is standing in the doorway to my room while I’m sitting on the couch in the living room. He stares down at me with an unreadable expression and I know it wasn’t a question but an order.

I just hope he can’t see how scared that made me. How the hell did he come to that conclusion? I was always so fucking _careful_...

“What? Why?” I ask, confusion heavy in my voice. I can feel a layer of sweat forming all over my body.

Levi walks over to me, his expression darkening. “Don’t be a brat. Just do it.”

I roll my eyes. “What. Do you think I cut myself? Do you think I’m _that_ stupid? How the hell did you come up with that?”

“Why is your first conclusion that I think you cut?” Fuck me. Why did I just practically tell him myself? “Anyway, you didn’t close your bedside table properly. Something caught my eye in there.”

I gulp heavily at the sight of my razor blade held carefully in between Levi’s fingers.

I shamelessly look him in the eye and raise an eyebrow. “So I have a razor blade. And? Those things are useful for other shit besides the emo. Like shaving, or the activity they are actually made for.”

“Eren,” he growls warningly and I give up.

“Fine, whatever,” I mumble as I slowly push my sleeves up a little to show him my perfectly scar-free wrists. “Satisfied?”

A look of relief crosses his face before he, unfortunately, realizes just how little of the skin I’m actually showing him.

He grabs my wrists before I manage to move them out of his reach and pulls the sleeves further up. Suddenly I’m unable to look anywhere and I close my eyes. I want to cry again.

I hear his breath hitch at the sight that undoubtedly meets him. I know my left forearm is a complete mess; I look at it constantly while only adding to the number of thin, red, pink and white lines, after all.

“Eren...” he whispers weakly and I can feel a wave of anger flow through my veins.

“What,” I bark defensively as I wrench my hands from his now considerably weakened grip. I still refused to look at him. At this point the only thing I want is to take the blade from Levi’s hand and cut myself up some more for letting Levi see this. Figure it out. Be disgusted with me. Leave me.

Blame himself.

Because that is what he is doing now. The rest will come soon after.

Right now he’s feeling guilty (which is stupid because it’s all me; he has nothing to do with it). Maybe he will try to help me but soon he’ll start realizing it’s not worth it. Then he will realize just how fucked up I am and will feel disgusted and ultimately the disgust will win over the guilt and he’ll leave.

I can’t blame him. I’d have left myself long ago, were it possible.

“Did... something happen?”

I shoot him a glare. “Like what?”

“I don’t know, just... why? Why are you doing this to yourself?”

I start laughing hysterically as it clicks, and I realize just what he’s expecting. It’s about two minutes before I calm down enough to answer. I’m smirking at him and a painful-to-look-at expression is probably adoring my face. “What, are you expecting some heavy childhood trauma? Rape? Kidnapping? Murder? Kicked puppy? ...Domestic abuse? Sorry to disappoint, my childhood was as good as it gets; there is no tragic backstory and no one has ever touched me,” I pause as a sudden thought occurs to me. “Maybe that just made it worse, I never even got slapped, even when I more than deserved it,” I shrug as Levi just watches me wearily, like he doesn’t know what to expect. He probably doesn’t.

Me neither.

I have no idea what I might and might not say or do in the next minutes. The words just flow out as if I’ve been waiting for the opportunity to say them. (I probably have, somewhere deep down.)

I chuckle humourlessly again before looking Levi dead in the eye. “Really, is there ever any other reason than hating yourself?”

For minutes we just stare at each other, waiting who will break first. I can tell Levi is desperately looking for something to say, but I don’t feel like listening. I know I’ll just blow up if he says the wrong thing.

But even I don’t know what the right thing to say is.

I see him taking a deep breath in preparation so I beat him to it. I sigh quickly, cutting him off before he can get a single sound out. “Don’t say anything; I don’t want to hear it. You’re either going to pretend you understand me while we both know all too well you don’t or nicely tell me I’m fucked up. I honestly don’t want to hear either of those.”

“Then what do you want me to say? What should I do? I want to help you, Eren. I really do, just tell me _how_. _Please_.” He sounds desperate but I can only shake my head suppressing the tears out of habit.

“I don’t know,” I whisper. And for once I’m actually not lying to him about my feelings. “I really don’t know. I’m sorry.” Holding the tears is getting harder and harder for me. I want to cry but I can’t let myself cry. Not in front of Levi, not ever. I don’t deserve the relief it might bring. “But...” I take a shaky breath before continuing with difficulty, “you make me... You’re the only thing that makes me happy so... please...”

I can’t say it. I just can’t. I don’t even know _what_ it is I want to say.

He’s silent for a long while before heavily sitting next to me on the couch, close enough that can I feel his heat but not touching.

It kinda makes me feel rejected.

And like I just destroyed everything.

My arm itches.

But before I can start hyperventilating and/or scratching at it reflexively, he sighs, turns to me and pulls me into the tightest hug I’ve ever received, burying his face in my hair. Suddenly, I’m not sure which one of us is the one who wants to cry.

I’m stiff in the embrace, not daring to move a single muscle, not even to breathe. I don’t know what to do, so I just sit there, holding my breath, waiting.

After a short moment he presses a kiss to my temple, whispering, “Okay. I’m gonna do my fucking hardest to make you even happier than now. So you better let me help you when you’re ready for it. I’ll be waiting.”

After that I slowly, carefully start breathing again. I feel like shit, even worse than before, because I really don’t deserve him, this perfect guy. But somehow, I’m happy, too. Because I believe him. I believe he’s going to help me. Even if there is and probably will always be the nagging thought that ultimately I’ll be too much for him, no matter how much he may love me – or feel obligated to stay. He’s going to leave. But for now he is here and for once I feel safe from my own self. For how long? I don’t know.

But it doesn’t matter as long as he holds me like this, stroking my hair whispering soothing things like, ‘It’s okay, let it out,’ and ‘That’s it; cry all you want, I’m here.’

Wait; cry? When did I start crying?

I have no idea.

But maybe it was exactly what I needed.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, there were about five more lines after this. But I had a feeling I'd get virtually lynched if I left it like that, so I cut it off. (Also, I'd probably hate myself, too, with an ending like that one... ^^;; )


End file.
